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Heretic Mage: Rise of the Dark God’s Necromancer

Death. Servitude. Submission. That was all Morne had known for the past eight years. Everything he had known and loved had been taken from him, and it was his fate to be a slave, passed around from master to master like a disgusting disease no one wanted but everyone received. Soon after, a demon with a tantalizing promise appeared. "I’m here to Anoint you," the demon whispered. "My lord, Jiklok, has deemed you a mortal worth keeping an eye on. And I have another offer as well." The demon offered Morne a path to the power he had lacked in life, a way to seize his own destiny. Necromancy. The things he asked for in exchange seemed... small in comparison. Using his newfound necromantic powers, Morne would inflict on those who did him wrong all he had suffered and more. Those who had destroyed his village would be slaughtered beneath waves of undead, those masters who had sold and traded him like cheap wares would be forever bound to Morne's service, just as they had bound him. He would be his own master. Death. Servitude. Submission. ...... No MC harems are to be found here. If you need that kind of stuff in a story, you won't like this. Currently dropped. If you like this book, consider checking out my other ongoing book. It's called "Crown of Nightmares: Banished to Hell For My Bloodline!"

Lolbroman25 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
201 Chs

Idol, Part 1

When Morne's vision stopped swimming, he found himself floating in an expanse of black.

The speckles of light dotting the void reminded Morne of the night sky, but while the night sky's stars were inviting and calming, these pinpricks of light instilled a sense of unease in onlookers.

The white light they gave off looked… wrong, somehow. It was milkier than a normal star's light, and Morne could swear he heard screaming.

It was so faint that it was little more than a slight buzzing, but why did it sound so human?

"Beautiful, isn't it?" said a familiar voice.

Morne whirled around to see Brej-N'Ha-Frikt, the Coltha, staring back at him with that spine-chilling grin on his face.

"This is my personal dimension, mortal," the demon told him. "Here, my will is reality. A perfect place to perform your test."

"What test?" Morne asked.

"A test, to see if you are worthy of the knowledge within this book," the Coltha replied, his grin never fading. "The Trade only accounted for finding it, not earning what was within. That… is up to me."

Hearing this, Morne straightened, resolve coloring his features and setting his jaw. If this was what it took to seize power for himself, he'd do it.

He was tired of the world playing cruel trick after cruel trick upon him, all while he was powerless to fight back.

No more.

Not only would he pass this trial, but he'd also pass every other trial and tribulation the world threw at him.

Every breath he breathed, every step he took, was another victory against those who wished him dead, whether that be cultists, the empire, or the Gods themselves.

It was a collection of small victories, but soon he'd be snatching much larger successes.

Xryn would not hold him down any longer.

Brej-N'Ha-Frikt's grin widened when he saw this, but he didn't comment. "Then begin."

.......

"Here," the gruff man said, shoving a scroll into Morne's hands. "Your next job."

Morne blinked, adjusting to the sudden change, before playing along with a nod.

"Get it done by the end of the month," the man said. With a swish of his black cape, he turned and left.

Morne took a moment to get his bearings.

He was in a temple, with stone floors and walls that sloped inward like the interior of a pyramid.

The walls turned into glass where they met at the very top, allowing the sun outside to wash the inside of the temple with light.

The room was half a mile long and just as wide, a massive area that put the Museum of Magicks to shame. Carved into the walls were doorways leading to bedrooms, armories, and treasuries.

This large space Morne stood in was filled with people talking, practicing archery, swinging daggers or swords, testing Spells, and other such forms of training. More importantly, everyone here wore the same unassuming brown clothes Morne did.

A small voice in the back of his head told Morne that he was in a temple dedicated to Jiklok, and these were thieves and assassins who worshipped the Dark God of Necromancy and Greed.

Now knowing where he was, he turned his attention to the scroll in his hands.

It was a drab, cheap piece of brownish parchment that looked like it might collapse into dust with a touch, which it thankfully didn't.

He grabbed both ends and unfurled the parchment, frowning as he read the words within.

"Target: Idol of Pernecia.

Location: Temple of Vreyy, Selkseb.

The client has requested that no one dies for this, which means keep your damn dagger sheathed. The Temple of Vreyy is heavily warded, so you will have to infiltrate it through whatever means you can. Once you find the idol, take it outside of the temple for extraction.

Burn scroll after reading."

Below these words was a rough sketch of the idol, which Morne made sure to memorize.

The drawing depicted a nude woman with flowers covering her privates, holding two rings in one hand as the other rested on the head of a tall wolf. Her feet and those of the wolf were attached to a wide base.

Notes next to the sketch informed Morne that the wolf would be made of white Andesene and the rings would be made of silver, while the woman herself would be made of rose gold.

The eyes of the wolf were listed as made of rubies, and the woman's eyes as emeralds. The flowers would also be made of emeralds.

All in all, a very expensive item, which was why the payment for completion was listed as twenty thousand Opyens.

The Opyens were worthless to Morne. He didn't believe the demon would create real-world currency for him, and Morne doubted he could take them out of this dimension.

But even without a very large payment to look forward to, Morne would do it anyway, as he was going to earn something much more valuable.

Morne tossed the scroll into a nearby fire as it instructed, and went to the armory.

He snagged a map of Selkseb and an enchanted black rock that the quartermaster gave him, who said it would allow him to communicate with the cultist Morne would hand the Idol off to, then he went to the temple's Universal Mages to teleport him to the city.

Normally a service like this would cost quite a lot of coin to use, but perhaps because a month-long trek through the wilderness wouldn't be entertaining to watch, Brej-N'Ha-Frikt had elected to make it free.

Morne wasn't about to complain. He stood on a small platform amid chanting Mages and closed his eyes when his surroundings started to change.

He opened his hazel eyes to the scene of a dim and dirty alley. A woman in rags slept in the corner, using some of the trash as both a blanket and a pillow, and undisturbed by the arrival of Morne.

Morne picked his way through the garbage and out into a busy street, where his above-average height made him stand out like a sore thumb.

The passersby didn't seem to care, content to go along with their business, as Morne started walking toward the temple in the center of the city.